Allurea College
by AoifeDarkllove
Summary: Lady Alexys Lyrah Darkllove is a beautifully composed, well mannered and disciplined young heiress- No that doesn't work... that doesn't sound right... Alexys Darkllove is a young woman of many virtues, talents and patience- No, that is definitely not it... Alex is a girl who loves her Stheira and her Canil, all the while burning with a passionate dislike for all things proper.


**PLEASE ACCEPT THAT THIS IS _NOT_ A FANFICTION, AND THIS WILL ONLY BE PROMOTED BY MY OTHER STORY. PLEASE TELL ME WHAT THIS STORY MAY BE SIMILAR TO, SO I CAN ALTER IT THE STORY CATEGORY. _THIS IS MY OWN STORY._ I AM VERY SORRY IF YOU THOUGHT HIS WAS A PERCY JACKSON FANFIC, BUT I HAVE A REAL PJO FANFIC THAT YOU CAN ACCESS BY CLICKING MY USERNAME. VERY SORRY**

 **The End - One: Newt**

 **Allure Lore:**

" _All wing-folk that possess a wingspan over ten feet, or a child with wings that excess their own height, regardless of their ability of flight, and within ten kilometres of a Stheiryl will be eligible to meet the available Stheira's within said measurement. If, in the rare case they have a bonded, and the winged person is a member of royal blood, the Stheiryl will be allowed to be taken. If not a royal member, the Stheiryl will be kept at its residence and become illegible for Binding, only for ownership if the bonded becomes a Wolfe." -_ _ **Extract from the**_ **Allure Lore: Stheiryl - Stheiryl Ownership** _**-**_ **Wing-folk** _**\- 2.2**_

A loud snore filled the room, much to my quick contempt.

I frowned.

It happened again and I turned my head to the other side nuzzling my head into the sheet, my eyes briefly narrowing as I tried to ignore the offending sound.

Silence.

I sighed, my face smoothing over and the sheets settling comfortably over my body. I slipped into dreamland, where the prince was just about to confess his undying love for the princess.

It was just right. The balcony was candle lit and the moon was full. Gentle music played from a distant ball, and he was wearing a crisp uniform, while down on one knee. He opened his mouth to finish his monologue of love. My mother would have adored it.

Cue snore.

I tore the blanket off, and spun around on the bed, crouching slightly, despite my mild disgust for the dream. Whatever disturbed me from my rest, good dream or otherwise, was treason in my eyes. I snarled at the room, preying for the disturbance. The snore came again and I growled. Honest to gods growled.

Something moved in my peripheral sight, and I snapped my head towards it, ready to curse it to high Allea.

My mouth opened and I stumbled on my words, before the thing turned over and revealed itself to be Kilo.

The Kynero stretched and slumped back into the stuffed sheet, it's cat-like ears twitching as nonexistent dust settled on his fur, sincere contentment pulsing from him.

I immediately ceased my hunt, and stood, stumped on the mattress. I looked rather disheveled, I decided, with my sheet now strewn over my very sore wings, and my hair a tangled mess, tumbling down in all directions, obscuring my already blurry vision. I doubted I was a scary sight to anything I was hunting, and grumbled to myself at the Kynero. It needed its own damned room. Sound proofed.

I jumped from the bed, opening my wings to steady myself after ungracfully shaking the sheet off. I trekked haphazardly to the bathroom, tripping over said Kynero. He deserved it.

It yowled angrily at me and I cackled before closing the door. I somewhat tamed the red mass that was my hair, attempting to brush it. I did the best I could before giving up and letting it be. I drew on riding pants and an otherwise baggy shirt that didn't cling to my stomach as much it did to my torso. I tucked it in, fastened the clasps around the base of my wings and pulled on my riding boots. I marched out the room just as dawn arised, clicking my tongue for Kilo to follow.

If he wanted fresh meat, he would have to drag is snoring behind off the floor.

The halls were wide as I walked through the mansion, stretching my long, mottled-grey wings, brushing along the oil paintings and burgundy walls. Light streamed in through big, patchwork windows, warming the carpeted floor. I clicked my neck and stretched my shoulders as I descended the wooden staircase, watching and ducking amusedly at Kilo as he flew erratic circles around my head.

He came up to my hip when standing, and I wasn't a small person, so it was an action that had frequently sent me tumbling down these very same, hard stairs.

I made it safely to the ground floor and bounded to the grand front doors, my primaries dragging along the floor, and taking in the distastefully elaborate carvings in the mahogany. I pushed with both hands against the wood, and gasped at the crisp cold air. The doors shut firmly behind me as I squinted at the pack house, several cattle fields away.

The grass under my foot was sewn with dew, and a few rocks littered the floor before the green pasture dropped away suddenly. The sky was cloudless and cool, the cold burning my lungs as I took deep breaths. The moisture began to deep into my footwear and I sighed, staring down at the well-worn boots that had already been dowsed in water.

I turned to the Kynero, "You ready?"

I felt a mixture of excitement and nervousness come from him, as he glanced quickly at the sheer drop a few meters feet from the mansion.

"You'll be fine." I reassured, warming up my own wings. I rolled my shoulders and shook my wings, water flying everywhere, causing Kilo to back away in disgust. And then I sprinted at the cliff edge.

The Kynero yipped behind me as I left him behind, but I ignored him as I neared the drop. My foot hit the edge and I leapt into the air and tucked in my wings, my face angled downwards. I plummeted against the rock face, letting out a high pitched screech of delight. I tilted my head to see Kill worriedly staring down at me, about fifty feet up, despair radiating off him in waves. I sighed and looked away, preparing to catch the wind under my wings.

I quickly unfurled them and tightly held my breath as I jolted in the air, my wings puffing out as I halted sharply. I soared before doing a few wing beats to gain some height. I spun around just in time to see my Kynero take a leap of faith over the edge and wobble slightly on his way over.

I gave a last downward push as I straightened myself and landed neatly at the Pack house doors. Kilo gave a last, tired flap, and plummeted to the ground. Bless.

I walked to the shed around the side of the barn, and opened the doors, freeing the smell of fresh and slightly bloodied meat. I opened the crate at the end of the room and took out six portions of meat, and lugged it into the barn trough the connecting door. I was immediately surrounded by small Kynero cubs, eager to be fed, and blessed with undeniably sharp teeth that were currently digging into my thigh and forearms. A growl resonated in my throat and they retreated to the floor, settling for bouncing up an down rather than their teeth sunk into my flesh. A more favourable option, if you ask me.

I placed meat on the different plateau's stationed on the masts of the barn and let the cubs settle the matter of who owned which, with Kilo's watchful eye trained on them as I treaded quietly round the corner. It was decidedly quieter than the cubs portion, housing separate pens for each Stheira. I walked past four Stheiryls, who sleepily bashed their eyelids and lazily wagged their tails at my appearance, but I simply pushed my acknowledgment through my head, and opened the fifth pen on the left.

" _You took your time. I was getting hungry, and those cubs look very plentiful."_ drawled a voice in my head, the deep rumble resonating in my head. I had a magnificent and proud beast at my back, large and mature for his age, although his age hardly measured his maturity and pride. Both of which were far between. I closed the door and rolled my eyes as I turned, fixing an arched eyebrow at Newt. He looked unkempt, his ear flapp inside out, primaries all ruffled, and a dogged look on his face. For a prideful Stheira, he left a small part of indignity reserved just for me.

" _What have you done?! It's going to take an age to get you flight ready_!" I retorted in my head, dismissing his age old pursuit of the young Kynero's. I approached the vain, eleven foot tall hound, and began to comb through and rearrange the primary feathers after ruffling the fur on his head, eliciting a appreciative rumble from him. A brief annoyance flashed through his system as he comprehended the new mess on his head.

" _At least I am not as undignified as the cubs over there."_ He mumbled in my head, muttering insults at the naive canils.

The Stheiryl under my hands was a proud beast, if I hadn't mentioned, standing eleven feet tall, with a coat as black as soot and feathers to match, dipped in a burnt orange. His impressive wingspan defeated my own fourteen feet, and spread easily over twenty three, a magical warmth dancig in the Fire Stheiryl's wingtips. He was mine. Just as, unfortunately, I was his.

Many unfortunate people had to be bonded by ceremony to their own Stheiryl, but I was a lucky one.

Most winged-folk were not blessed as Valkyries, people with feathered wings, but various other wing types such as Faerie, who had thin, butterfly-like wings, or Vaper's, who had leathered ones. Not all could fly, unless you had a certain wing-length and durability, which was, rather unluckily, not a hereditary trait.

There are few families with Valkyrie genes, all amounting to a grand total of seven across the nine continents, most of which could not fly. But, if you had large feathers as a child, it was most likely you were bonded.

If you were, in fact bonded, you would be able to hear a Stheira in your head. Every Stheiryl could speak into the mind of someone, if they so chose to, buy they have no control over what their bonded hears when they are young, thus making you bonded. The communication would be telepathic, as the bond is described as two halves of a whole, or twins. If you weren't as lucky to have a Bind, then you had to undergo a ceremony that allows your Stheira to talk to you in your head, but not you in the Stheiryl's. No one had simply figured it out yet.

I was not only blessed with a bonded Stheiryl, but a magical one, as most Stheiryl's, many of which were bred here, were magically redundant, or barren.

Soon, said blessed Stheiryl was letting his rather unsavoury breath cloud my lungs and nose, as the last few remnants of sleep crept away. I gagged in disgust and he simply yawned again in my face, while observing my slow suffocation.

" _You're no better, Nue."_

" _How dare you?!"_ came his rather high-pitched disbelief.

" _Very easily."_

 _"I am a beautiful being, of strength and grace, absolutely different from those tumbling, stomach fuelled cats. I have standards."_ came his arrogant assertion, greatly differing from the state he was in, with a piece of straw currently trapped on his ear.

" _So if Never walked through the barn doors right now, you wouldn't start preening like there was no tomorrow."_

I picked the straw from his head and showed it to him, making his eyes widen, and glance at his crumpled secondaries, before a " _I wouldn't object to helping..."_ came floating through.

I finished the right wing and Newt moved to the other side of the hay-filled pen, and extended his left. The orange tips extended over the wood lining the edges, and he bent a few feathers resting it on the side.

" _You want to fly or not?"_ I tutted and he immediately straightened the appendage, a sense of uncomfort oozing from him. He muttered obscenities in my head as I rearranged the feathers.

I finished tidying his wing, and left in favour of more venison and beef, before returning and sating the now ravenous and completely awake, fully grown Stheiryl's by throwing chunks of meat over the stable doors. The gentle hum of meaningless mutters filling the pen became malicious snarls as the wolves tore into the meat, music to my ears, and a sound to be missed.

I washed the oil and blood from the meat off my hands and stared at the appallingly familiar murder scene that had painted itself upon my once cream shirt.

I returned, slightly ashamed of that fact that I would miss having bloodstained blouses, too see Newt devour a large chunk of meat and scrape his nose against the splinter filled ceiling in his excitement . His yowl ripped over the growling hum of life, and he whimpered at the single splinter in his nose.

" _Alex..."_ came his whine as he thrusted his wound in my hands, his large snout as long as my forearm.

" _Nue..."_ I whined back, carefully picking at the small wood piece in his nose, and he immediately sat up and crossed his eyes in attempted to assess the damage. I bit my lip to refrain from laughing, and worried about Newt's mental health.

I threw the barn doors open with a flourish, welcoming the warmer air. The Stheira's walked out of the barn and stretched, marring the already torn ground with their claws. One of the younger males, a copper wolf with white tips, leapt over to the muddiest patches and promptly rolled in the sludge. Newt expressed his distaste in my head, and I briefly wished for my Stheiryl to have a cleaner mouth. Or mind.

Gradually, the Stheiryl's slunk into the woods to the right of the doors, vanishing for the day to hunt, sunbathe and get as dirty as possible for the stable-hands to bathe off later, while Newt sat behind me, soaking in the sun with his own dark, coat.

I turned once I saw the last Stheiryl disappear, and sent a mental cough to Newt. He opened an eye but stayed mum. I rolled my eyes and said, " _Tack, or no tack?"_

He glanced quickly at the gear hung neatly on the inside of the open barn door, before nodding. While bareback was a fun way to ride, it was very sore for the legs, and Newt liked his unexpected twists and flips.

I walked over and picked it up while Newt stood, shaking out the feather dust from the barn. I closed the door before returning, dumping the heavy saddle on his back and threaded the girth under his belly, before buckling it tightly. I stood back and let Newt shuffle slightly, testing the placement and security, before nodding again. His silence unnerved me; he was probably thinking of new ways to get me to fall into the lake, but I dismissed the thought. Hopefully we would be high enough for me to avoid a premature bath.

I buckled a thick leather strap round his broad chest and buckled it to each side of the worn saddle, before clicking the reins into place and lifting them over his head. He obediently lowered his head, his amber eyes boring into my own amber ones.

Another tell-tale sign that we were

Binded.

I placed a foot into the stiff, leather alcove behind his wings, shaped well to my foot shape, and heaved my right leg over. His back was wide, and I comfortably settled in the saddle and tucked my feet tight in the alcoves. I extended my own wings to leave them flat on his back, making us more aerodynamic, and me more comfortable.

Another drop was based to the left of the barn, though smaller than the one by the Darkllove Mansion, but still presented itself as the easiest route to the air.

And then Newt leapt forward, swallowing the ground beneath his paws, and leaving me to rely on magical intuition to guide me form falling off. He reached the cliff edge in three, bounding strides, and leapt off, plummeting down the cliff.

 _ **2671 words**_

 _ **-aoifedarkllove**_


End file.
